


Red Velvet

by Thealmostrhetoricalquestion



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Muggle, Cake, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, No Substance Only Cake, Not Canon Compliant, Romance, Sad and Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:42:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29779098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thealmostrhetoricalquestion/pseuds/Thealmostrhetoricalquestion
Summary: There was no magic in this world, a fact that always left Albus sorely disappointed, and so he was tasked with finding magic in the smaller, more ordinary things. The lavish way a cake was frosted, for example, or the dimple that punctured Scorpius’s cheek whenever he smiled, or the fact that they were getting married soon.An argument could be made that in another world, a world full of magic, Albus would be less impressed by these things. But he very much doubted it.
Relationships: Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 40





	Red Velvet

**Author's Note:**

> i really would like some red velvet cake right now please. also a lot of softness ahead. mind your teeth. 
> 
> cross-posted from ffn, so if you see it there, it's me! <3

As midnight drew nearer, Albus took to the streets. He boxed up the treat he had saved for Scorpius, fired off a quick text, and then locked the door behind him. The city was quiet at this late, miserable hour, and Albus did not have to walk far before the rain caught him off guard. He stepped under an awning, squinting up at the dismal, dark sky. The minutes ticked by with no change in the weather. Eventually, Albus sighed, tucked the box under his coat, and decided to risk it. 

The office building that Scorpius Malfoy worked at was only two streets away from their small flat. Perhaps this fact accounted for his frequent late nights and tired eyes, and the way he was often called in at a moments notice to deal with some error in the magazine’s pages. Or perhaps Scorpius was simply too kind and polite to say no when people asked him for numerous favours. Or, perhaps, he was simply the most intelligent one in the room even when it wasn’t just Albus that he was competing with, and so people relied on him more. 

Either way, it didn't take long for Albus to make the trip there, and when he arrived, damp and a little tired and still holding the cardboard box, he found Scorpius asleep at his desk. 

“We bought a really nice bed,” Albus whispered. “It’s got sheets on it that cost _hundreds_ of pounds because you’ll always be a rich snob, even when you’re nice about it.”

Scorpius stirred, but didn't wake up. He was slumped over the desk with his head pillowed on his arms, wrinkling several important papers. His hair was a mess, all skewed to one side, and a pair of thin wire frames had been abandoned on the desk. The harsh fluorescent light didn't do him any favours, but Albus still thought he looked lovely. 

He put the box down and eased the papers free. There were several versions of the same article printed on each sheet, with wild red lines scribbled all over the words. Albus put them carefully to the side, smoothing them out. It had been a rough week. He would never stop being proud of Scorpius, who had climbed the ranks of journalism swiftly, almost entirely unstoppable when he had a lead in mind, but it was a tiring job. It didn't really leave them with a lot of time together at home. 

Gently, Albus shook Scorpius by the shoulder until he blinked his eyes open. 

“Al? What’re you doin’ here?”

Albus laughed quietly. “Picking you up, apparently. C’mon, it’s already late.”

By the time all the lights had been switched off and all the doors had been locked tight, Scorpius was a tad bit more awake. Not by much, though. Albus bundled him into his thick wool coat and snatched the box off the desk, herding him out into the streets with one last wave at the security officer, who looked bored to death. The lights were still on at the top floor, but Scorpius was almost the last to leave. 

“I’m sorry.” Scorpius stifled a yawn behind his hand, following Albus blindly down the road. “I meant to call and let you know I’d be late, and then I must have fallen asleep. We’ve got a big issue coming up in a few days, and they asked me to look at some of the other columns before we present the whole thing…”

“How are you going to present anything if you’re so tired that you can’t even walk straight?”

“I can walk just fine,” Scorpius argued, though he clung to Albus’s arm, whining when he threatened to take it away. 

‘Two streets’ wasn’t far to walk at all, but the rain came down harder somewhere in the middle of the first one. Scorpius was so tired that he was practically dead on his feet, so it was a bit like dragging a bag of heavy, sodden clay along behind him. Albus swiped his dark hair out of his eyes, cursed, and dragged Scorpius under another awning. The city was awash with the things, big striped awnings that covered tiny, expensive cafes where a drop of coffee cost more than a kidney. Albus always felt a little too slouchy in them, but he loved a dark roast too much to steer clear. 

“I don't think we can wait out the weather,” Scorpius said, once they were safely under the awning, watching the rain drip down all around them. “Not weather like this, anyway. And we’re already wet, aren’t we, so maybe we should risk it?”

“Be my guest.”

Albus pushed Scorpius. He went stumbling out from under the awning, yelping like a scalded cat when the cold rain hit him in the face. Albus braced himself as Scorpius darted back under the awning, barreling straight into his shoulder, and started fiercely cursing him out. 

“I like it when you swear,” Albus said, pulling him close. “Proves that you’re a real boy.”

“You’re cruel to me today.”

Albus scoffed, drawing back. He rooted around in the inside pocket of his coat and withdrew the box. It was dented on one side, but the scent of frosting wafted out from the cracked lid.

“Cruel? Is that right? I guess you don't wanna take treats from a bully.”

“I never called you a bully.” Scorpius edged closer. “What is that?”

Albus laughed, lifting the lid. Inside the box was a huge wedge of red velvet cake, lathered in cream cheese frosting. A miniature wooden knife and fork had been taped to the lid of the box. Albus prised them free and handed the box over, watching as Scorpius wiggled with glee. It was the same dance he did in front of the microwave, or near the doormat when his parcels slipped through the letterbox. 

“You got me red velvet cake?” 

“You’ve had a horrible week.” Albus shrugged, watching the way Scorpius’s expression softened into something giddy and loving. “I thought you deserved a treat, and there was loads left over, so eat up.”

Scorpius had to awkwardly shuffle his spoils to hold the knife, using it to deftly cut a bit off the end. Then he forewent the fork entirely, using the flat of the blunt blade to scoop a bit of cake into his mouth. He groaned loudly, chewing with a happy little grin. 

It was nice to see him happy, even over something small. Out of the two of them, Albus was rarely the more cheerful one, but ever since they got engaged, it seemed like he couldn’t stop grinning. He walked around whistling and planning things. He was even excited to pick out napkins, of all things. Scorpius wasn’t unhappy about it all, far from it, and yet the stress from work had made it almost impossible for him to enjoy the whole process. It was a relief to see some of that glee back in his eyes. 

“How does it taste?” 

Scorpius swallowed, grinning even wider. “I can’t believe you even have to ask me that. You know this is my favourite.”

“So I picked the right one, then?” 

“Picked the…?”

“You know.” Albus put his hands in his coat pockets, mouth twitching. “For our wedding cake.” 

Scorpius froze with a knifeful of cake halfway to his mouth. In his eyes, there was a glint of panic as he raked over his mental calendar, and then guilt as he realised that yes, today _was_ the day they were supposed to go cake tasting together. Albus knew him well enough by now to track the progression of his thoughts, and he put a stop to it with a roll of his eyes. 

“Don't start apologising.”

“I forgot,” Scorpius said quietly. “I didn't mean to forget.”

“People usually don't mean to forget, unless they’re drinking,” Albus said. “Calm down, alright? I knew you were busy, and you’re always going to be busy, because you’re good at your job. As long as you’re not busy on our actual wedding day, then it’s fine.”

“I can’t believe I forgot!” Scorpius tipped his head back, sighing at the awning. “Oh my God, and you had to deal with my parents all day. Was it awful? Were _they_ awful? Dad didn't say anything bad, did he? Oh God, he brought up politics, I just _know_ he did.”

Draco had, indeed, brought up politics. He ranted for a solid thirteen minutes about the state of the government, an impassioned speech that led to Albus eating more than his fair share of cake. 

“He did,” Albus admitted, shrugging. “Your mum and I made a game of it. Every time he said the phrase ‘trying times’ we took a sip of that free champagne they give you. She was giggling by the end of it.”

Scorpius made a little stabbing motion in the air with his knife; a bit of cake slopped to the floor, so Albus whisked the knife away before any more damage could occur. 

“I told him he had to be on his best behaviour. I even set out a list of rules! No implying anything about my bad taste in men - which isn’t true by the way, as you well know, and he does actually love you a lot, he just gets snippy when he has to plan big things like weddings - and, what was I saying? Oh, no bad taste comments, no insulting your dad, and _definitely_ no politics. It’s not complicated.”

Albus wound an arm around Scorpius’s waist, pulling him in until their hips touched, letting him lean on him. 

“Was it really that awful?” Scorpius murmured. “Properly, truly awful, I mean?”

“No, it wasn’t awful.” Albus thought of all the times he caught their dads staring daggers over the platters of cakes, and all the times he caught Astoria’s eye, and all the times his mum blatantly ogled the waiter’s arse, much to his dad’s amusement and Draco’s horror, and snorted. “Not awful at all. It was entertaining. Your dad’s very easily scandalised, and my mum had a ball with that. Stop apologising and eat your cake.” 

Scorpius sniffled. “You took my knife.”

“Use your fork like a normal person.”

Scorpius shuffled a little closer to him, leaning his head against his shoulder. Albus had eaten enough cake in one day to settle him for life, but he could never resist the temptation of cream cheese frosting, so he still swiped a bit from the box before Scorpius could scoop it up. They stood quietly, swaying under the awning while the rain came down all around them, and the big clock a few streets away chimed to let them know that midnight had fallen. 

“If we weren’t already engaged, this would have been a much better time to propose,” Albus mused aloud. 

“I liked your proposal,” Scorpius said, but he was laughing as he said it, which ruined the sincerity. He danced away when Albus bumped him with his hip, and came back laughing even harder. “No, seriously! It was the best proposal. Very spontaneous.”

It had been very spontaneous. At the zoo, of all places. Albus tried very hard not to think about it, but there were several photographs of both of them crying in front of the penguin enclosure, and James had proudly displayed them on the wall in his flat. He was ruthlessly gleeful about it too. 

“Spontaneous, huh?”

There was no magic in this world, a fact that always left Albus sorely disappointed, and so he was tasked with finding magic in the smaller, more ordinary things. The lavish way a cake was frosted, for example, or the dimple that punctured Scorpius’s cheek whenever he smiled, or the fact that they were getting married soon. An argument could be made that in another world, a world full of magic, Albus would be less impressed by these things. But he very much doubted it. 

“What’s that face for?” Scorpius said, wary. 

Grinning, Albus took hold of Scorpius’s shirt and dragged him out from under the awning, kissing him right on the mouth just as the rain hit them. He caught Scorpius’s yelp with his lips and laughed into the kiss when he heard the cake box hit the floor. 

“You made me drop that,” Scorpius moaned. “You’re not supposed to waste cake, Al.”

“You can eat more at our wedding,” Albus said, and kissed him again.

**Author's Note:**

> i just fancied some soft wholesome scorbus!!! thank you for reading! <3


End file.
